


Touches de Piano

by orphan_account



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 05:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6787633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are for fun, but others may be a persons whole life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touches de Piano

Everything starts somewhere, in this case we must start at the beginning.  
  
Name: Adrien Agreste.  
  
Age: Four years old.  
  
Profession: Pianist.  
  
  
  
Not every four year old has been through much in their life yet, but for Adrien, that is not the case. He has already had his life set out in front of him. He were to be a model, and push further to perfection more than any other being he knew. His father was proud that his son behaved, but what he didn't know, was that this boy had a passion. He may have loved his mother more dearly than his father but his family were everything.  
  
Mother figures were something he liked being around. And when that person was his own mother, everything was bright, colourful. Everything made sense. At the age of four and a half, he was able to play complicated pieces of music alongside his mother. The two were very close, and he was always happy to spend time with her. She was the type of person that accepted you no matter what, made everything okay even if it wasn't, and more importantly; saved him when he couldn't himself.  
  
Although he had been told she disappeared, he knew what had happened to his mother at the age of 10. She had been dead for a year, his fathers cold, distant attitude had increased tenfold and the young boy had nothing.  
  
Besides the piano in the ballroom.  
  
He had begun to play his heart out, tears welling up and coating his blond eyelashes, but nothing fell, rolled down his cheeks. No, his mother wouldn't want that. So instead, he let his feelings flow through to his hands, allowing the keys to wind a sorrowful tune into a balance of hope and joyous years. He never forgot the last time he saw her. He never forgot the way she kissed him goodnight and promised to go to his first recital, but unfortunately, she was no longer there when he asked his father.  
  
As the years went by, his demeanour had gotten sweeter. Not because of his father, but because he was happy to have stood up for himself, gone out and made friends. He was finally pleased with his life. When he was feeling down, his cat would jump up and sit on the ivories, meowing innocently as though he didn't know what he was doing. And although disrupting his music, he was always glad to have the grumpy cat with a soft heart around. He didn't actually know how old Plagg was, but he was sure that he had been around longer than himself. The soft cat may have been a little stinker, especially as he had never grown beyond the size of a kitten - making people believe he was innocent (the little shitbag) - but, he was a very good friend that had been with him since before he could remember.  
  
Today was another recital his father had booked.   
  
Usually he was used to it, but it still made him rather angry that he was bending his own child's talent to bring his name higher in the world. No matter what it was, fashion, modelling, or music, he just had to take everything away from it. All the colours. All the light. But he couldn't take away the spark of a fire his mother had lit inside his heart, igniting a force inside him, pushing him to keep the passion he had worked his whole life for.  
  
  
  
Getting ready was the easy part. He wore a grey shirt, tucked into dark dress trousers to keep the feel he had a theme. Of which he did. He was mourning the loss of his mother to the beautiful art that was the waves of music that lulled him to sleep. The way his mother used to sit him on her lap, have her hands under his tiny ones and play along with him. He was mourning the loss of such joy. However, he did allow for a pressed, black tailcoat in honour of his favourite feline, a black bowler hat with two ears peeking from the top. He added a shocking green tie to match his eyes and some black shoes, once Plagg had successfully covered his shins in cat fur, he was ready to go.  
  
Arriving no longer brought him nerves. It send adrenaline rushing through his spine, pumping through his body and making him more excited to show the crowd. The only person that knew he could play the piano was Nino, and he swore he would never tell anyone, however when he spotted them his tanned face ran cold.   
  
They were here.  
  
Alya, Nino and Marinette.   
  
He couldn't cover his identity now, he was trapped. _Fuck._  
  
  
Dashing backstage, he started to panic, however he couldn't calm down. No one was supposed to know, he couldn't show he had feelings. Especially about classical music. Of course it was beautiful, however he knew Nino took it badly, but that mother _fucker_ had to tell those two. He was dead. They would hate him forever and he would be a laughing stock.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
Marinette wasn't really to sure about this.  
  
Nino had said that this was a good idea, to surprise Adrien while he wasn't expecting it. They were pretty much adults at nineteen, but Marinette, still standing at eighteen felt like this wasn't right. Maybe he didn't want anyone there, or he was just really terrible at it. Apparently moral support didn't sit well with her when she wasn't invited.  
  
The second he walked on stage, she felt her breath catch in her throat. She knew it was him, as his name had been announced, however he was in a black mask and matching clothing to make him look more feline. It suited him, actually, and he looked really, _really_ good. If he was horrific and killed her ears, at least she would be able to admire the way he could pull anything off.  
  
Watching him flick his tails out of the way to sit down on the stool, seemingly not to have noticed them. Phew. She was in the clear.  
  
Hands lifting to the keys, her eyes were glued to him, earning her a snicker from her fiery haired friend sat right next to her.  
  
However, as he started to play, it was... hauntingly good.  
  
It was a little simple as it started out, but it did hold deep emotion. The pace was soft, languidly pricking her heart and pulling her into a state of loss. She really didn't know what exactly to think. She was mad at herself for doubting him, but goddamn. The pace was slowly picked up, the keys being more audibly heard from the pressure, and as his hands were to glide across the keys his features (the ones visible) showed more hurt and emotion than she had ever seen on the happy model in her class. It made her want to hug him. But, she could also hear the notes seemingly in a better place. Holding fond memories, and she remembered a time of where she used to draw butterflies before setting them free. The two beside her didn't seem as enveloped as she was, but she could feel the tears pricking at her eyes. God, she hoped no one was paying attention, because she felt like a fool. Crying at her friend playing the piano. It was beautiful, yes, but also heartbreaking.  
  
"And that was Adrien playing Perdu et Trouvé" Spoke the announcer, however it was lost in her ears. People were cheering for him, but she was silent. It felt like nothing more could have been done to perfect it, and she honestly had fallen even harder for him knowing that she may be able to alleviate some sorrows. Some burdens could be assisted, and she didn't want to have him in such a horrible place.  
  
The three had made their way out, though Adrien seemed to catch up with them before they could leave. Nino ran one way, Alya ran the other, and Marinette stood lost and confused on what to do. He seemed upset that they were here, and she felt herself shrink into her shell just a tiny bit, and at his height towering over her, she felt even smaller.   
  
"Why were you guys here? I told Nino not to say anything." His face had instantly softened when he had seen Marinette had been left behind, and he didn't want to make her feel bad. It wasn't her fault after all.  
  
Instead of answering, she shuffled slightly closer and hesitantly wrapped her arms around his middle, pulling him into a friendly hug.  
  
A shocked expression displayed on his face for a moment before he returned the gesture, large arms reaching around her to hug her sweetly, pressing his face into her hair, of which he noticed was in a neat bun. She smelt like cinnamon, and it was generally rather pleasing. "I-I'm so sorry, Adrien."  
  
That confused him, actually, because he didn't know why she was saying sorry. She didn't really do anything wrong. He pulled back slowly to try and catch her gaze, but her eyes were down, leaving him to take the mask off, holding the eyes of midnight in one hand as the other tilted her chin upwards. "Why exactly are you apologising?"  
  
Her gaze stayed on the floor, but she did answer his question.  
  
"A song like that can't be written without going through some shit."  
  
  
At that answer, he moved his hand back up to her cheek, running his thumb along it slowly in an attempt to console her. "You needn't worry about me, Princess." The emotion in his eyes said he cared about her. It was a loving, affectionate look with a small smile inching its way up his face, and she couldn't help the bashful blush that burned her cheeks, probably scorching a few layers of skin off his hand.  
  
Maybe he wouldn't-- Nope. No going back. The smug smile on his face said it all.  
  
Batting his hand away, the two started to laugh quietly, eventually erupting into undignified chortles. Marinette lost her footing, eventually falling straight into him, and the two just laughed while leaning against a wall, watching the people flood out nearby. The last thing that the shy bluenette said was something that probably made his face beet red.  
  
  
  
  
"I was worried you'd be bad, because I have a huge thing for pianists."


End file.
